


the way that you are is enough (don't need makeup to cover up)

by teacupfulofbrains



Series: little and broken (but still good) [3]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Pre-Children, a birthday gift for bee!, also i know like nothing about makeup, bls have mercy on me, college-age moxiety, it's soft and gay, little and broken but still good au, moxiety - Freeform, moxiety!dad!au, virgil helps patton with makeup
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-17
Updated: 2019-12-17
Packaged: 2021-02-26 22:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21836584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupfulofbrains/pseuds/teacupfulofbrains
Summary: virgil never claimed to be a youtube makeup guru, but he knows his way around a beauty blender. so when his boyfriend asks for help with makeup, how can he say no? even if he thinks that patton is plenty pretty without it . . .(OR: college!age moxiety and makeup, a birthday gift for my wonderful friend bee!)
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Series: little and broken (but still good) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1362436
Comments: 8
Kudos: 155





	the way that you are is enough (don't need makeup to cover up)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bumblebeekitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bumblebeekitten/gifts).



> HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY WONDERFUL TUMBLR WIFE [@bumblebeekitten](https://bumblebeekitten.tumblr.com/)  
> this is set in my moxiety!dad!au, when virgil and patton are still in college! they're seniors in this fic  
> title is from 'what makes you beautiful' by one direction, i will not be accepting comments or criticisms at this time
> 
> CW: mild injury (specifically bruises), brief nonspecific blood mention, sappy fluff for DAYS

_Two more paragraphs. Two more paragraphs and I’ll be halfway to the page limit, and then I can take a break. I’ll eat a snack and I’ll watch the next episode, and then I’ll throw myself back into it. Obsessing over it won’t make me work any faster. I have to take a deep breath and work at a reasonable pace._

Virgil exhales slowly, cracking his knuckles over his keyboard. He hates writing philosophy papers because there’s only so long he can waffle on about dead guys and their perceptions of the universe before he gets fed up. Luckily, this is his last philosophy core, so he only has to get through one semester and he’ll be fine. 

There’s a soft knock on the door before it’s being flung open, and Virgil doesn’t even look up from his paper. “Pat, is that -”

“ _Virgil help me please!_ ” 

Virgil looks up, confused, because there’s rarely such a panic in Patton’s voice. The next second, he’s on his feet and crossing their tiny dorm room in three strides. His hand comes up to cup Patton’s face, tenderly sweeping a thumb across the massive bruise blooming on his left cheek. 

“Who did this to you?” Virgil snarls, voice low and threatening. Patton leans into the touch for a moment before blinking at him. 

“What? Virgil, honey, you’ve got the wrong -”

“ _Who did this to you?!_ ” 

“A spotlight,” Patton says, lifting a hand up to gently touch Virgil’s face. “Honey, I’m okay, I promise. No one hurt me. We were working backstage and one of the spotlights they were trying to hang fell. I jumped out of the way, but I wasn’t fast enough to avoid it completely and I got grazed on the cheek.” 

There’s a tiny scratch on the bruise, and Virgil gently touches it again. His fingers don’t come back red, so he lets himself relax just a little. “You - you were so panicked when you came in, I - I thought . . .”

“That I was running away from someone bigger than me?” Patton says softly, tilting his head to the side. A familiar, warm smile creeps across his lips, and Virgil exhales in relief. “I’m okay, Vee. No big, bad wolves to run away from tonight.” 

“And here I thought I was your big, bad wolf, little lamb.” Virgil gently kisses Patton, who squeaks in surprise and presses his whole body closer. One hand slides down to slip under Patton’s tank top, settling on his soft hips, and Virgil smiles at the little shiver Patton gives in response. 

“So if you don’t need me to kick someone’s ass,” Virgil asks, pulling away from the kiss and leaning his forehead against Patton’s, “why were you so desperate for my help?” 

“You’re good with makeup, aren’t you?” 

“I mean, I’m no NikkieTutorials, but I’m pretty good. Why?” 

“I have a presentation tomorrow, a big one. It’s worth twenty percent of my grade. If I go in there to present with my face all jacked up like this, I’m worried that my professor will dock points. Plus, I’m not exactly eager to explain this to everyone who asks . . .”

“So, what are you asking me?”

“Will you teach me how to do makeup? I don’t have to be the prettiest person in the world, but I wanna cover up this bruise.” 

“You’re the prettiest person I’ve ever seen,” Virgil murmurs, feeling his cheeks heat up in embarrassment at the admission. Patton giggles. (It’s his favorite sound.) “But I can help you, sure. Are you busy the rest of the night?” 

“No, they took one look at my face and let me go early from stage crew.” 

“Alright. We’re gonna ice your face for a little, and then we’re gonna go to CVS and buy you some makeup. It’ll be alright.” 

It’s still a break, after all. Just not the one he was expecting.

* * *

Patton gathers his skirt in his hands as he steps out of Virgil’s car. It’s not the most recent model, but it’s reliable, and Virgil keeps it clean and maintained. Patton looks up at the glowing fluorescent lights of the CVS sign. He’s been here before, but only during the day. Now, it’s almost ten PM, and the parking lot is almost deserted. It’s eerily unsettling to be alone in a place normally bustling and teeming with people. 

“You okay, Pat?” Virgil asks, coming around the car. Patton turns to him and smiles; nothing can really be that scary when Virgil is by his side. Quickly, Patton grabs his wallet from the glovebox and shuts the car door. Virgil clicks the lock button twice so the car chirps and slides his hand into Patton’s. 

“I am now,” Patton says, letting a sappy smile grow across his face. Virgil blushes and kisses the tip of his nose. 

“You’re gonna make a sap out of me,” he grumbles, face pink. Patton just giggles and laces their fingers. “Okay, so I’m just gonna preface this by saying that CVS is no Sephora. They don’t have, like, the world’s most expansive selection of makeup, and the makeup they do stock isn’t particularly great, but it’ll do for what you need.”

Virgil keeps talking about blending and skin tones and concealers and the benefits of powder versus liquid foundation. Patton just nods along, pretending he knows what Virgil is talking about, and lets his boyfriend lead him over to the makeup section. 

“They don’t really have testers here the way that a makeup store would, but if you look hard enough you can usually find one that’s been opened and used as a tester by other people. That’s important, because makeup in the bottle doesn’t always look the same way as it does on your skin,” Virgil tells him. They crouch down next to a display, and Virgil skims over the shelves with a critical eye before plucking a bottle off the shelf. “Give me your arm?” 

Patton holds his arm out, and Virgil carefully twists it so that Patton’s inner wrist is facing up. He gently squirts a little dollop of liquid makeup onto Patton’s wrist and rubs it in with his index finger. “It feels nice,” Patton offers. “It’s creamy and smooth, like moisturizer!” 

“Yeah, but it’s a poor shade match,” Virgil says. “You like that formula, though?” 

“I like the way it feels, yeah!” 

“Okay. We’ll stick to that brand, though, let’s try . . . this one.” 

It takes two or three more bottles before Virgil finds one that he deems a satisfactory match for Patton’s skin. He plucks an untouched bottle off the shelf and hands it to Patton before turning to a different rack. “Alright, so now we need concealer. You were shade four out of twenty-five for foundation, which is pretty light, so out of twelve concealers . . . let’s try shade two?”

The concealer he picks up is a stick that reminds Patton of a lipstick consistency, except it’s rounded. Virgil rubs a little dot onto the back of Patton’s hand and rubs it in, comparing it to the foundation swatch. “Hmmm . . . I think you’re a little darker than this . . .”

They find a concealer much more easily than they had a foundation, and Virgil hums in satisfaction. “Alright. All we have to grab now is setting powder and makeup remover . . .”

“Virgil?”

“Hmm?”

“What about this?” Patton picks up a small white compact with a pink, slightly glittery product inside. “I like this.” 

“Blush?” Virgil asks. “I mean, it’s not necessary to cover up your bruise, but if you want it I can show you how to use it.” 

Patton grins. “Yay! And - um - I kinda want lipstick, too?”

“Do you want lipstick or lip gloss? They’re different.”

“They’re . . . different?”

“Yeah, they’re different. Lipstick will dry down, but lip gloss is shinier. Here, I know my mama likes _this_ one.” Virgil reaches down and picks up a small, pale pink tube. “I can teach you how to put all this stuff on, too, if you want.” 

“Yeah!” 

Virgil snags an orange egg-looking sponge thing (“It’s a beauty blender, Pat, not an egg sponge”), a container of powder (“It doesn’t matter what shade we get, because it’s translucent powder, but I like this brand best”), a small set of brushes, and a container of face wipes. Patton manages to convince him to tack on a bag of Milano cookies and a pack of lavender sheet masks before they finally leave the store. 

“Self care night this weekend?” Patton asks, leaning his head on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Oh, God, please.”

* * *

“Fair warning, this might sting,” Virgil says, twisting the concealer stick up from its base. “I’m gonna have to press on your cheek to get the pigment off, and I’m gonna have to rub it into your skin to make sure it conceals properly. Same with the foundation.” 

Patton nods, even though his hands curl into resolute fists. “I’m ready.” 

Virgil carefully begins to rub the concealer along Patton’s face. He does his best not to press too hard against the tender skin, but Patton still winces. “Sorry, Pat . . .”

“Don’t apologize, sweetpea,” Patton says. “I knew it was gonna hurt when I asked you to help me, it’s okay.”

“Yeah, but still, I love you. I hate seeing you in pain.” 

“I know you do. You’re such a sweetheart, despite your protests. You care so much, and that’s one of the many, _many_ things that I love about you.” Patton gently pushes the concealer stick out of the way and reaches up off the bed to tangle his fingers in Virgil’s wild hair and tug him down for a kiss. Virgil lets himself be pulled, sliding their mouths together easily.

He remembers what it was like, when they first started dating. How he was so worried that he would hurt Patton with everything he did, how unusual it was to have a bright and bubbly warmth constantly around him. Being with Patton felt like - _feels_ like - having a star follow you around. Patton makes everything better just by existing; he exudes positivity and joy and warmth and light and life and _love_ , and Virgil doesn’t know where he’d be without Patton. 

He remembers their first kiss, all awkward nose bumping and warm breath on each other’s lips and the graze of Patton’s teeth across his lower lip and the taste of green apples and caramel on Patton’s tongue and the warmth of Patton’s hands looped around his neck. It took them quite a while to figure out the rhythm that works for them, but now they know each other with their eyes closed. 

Patton sighs softly into his mouth, warm and wonderful and loving, and Virgil leans into him for a moment more before gently pulling back. “I love you,” he says softly. “I know you’re anxious to conceal your shiner, but I promise that no matter what you look like I’ll love you. I don’t love you for your looks. I love you for your personality, your laugh, your warmth and your smile and your _you_. I love everything about you.” 

Patton’s cheeks color pink. “I love you too, Virgil,” he says softly. “You’re beautiful, always, and that’s not the only reason I love you but I - I just think you should know that I think you’re really, _really_ pretty, Vee. Like, _really_ pretty.” 

Virgil sputters and leans in to kiss Patton’s forehead before picking up the concealer stick again. “Alright, Pat, I gotta teach you how to do this. I won’t be able to do your makeup for you before your presentation, so you’ll have to pick this up pretty quick.”

He shows Patton how to apply the concealer, how to rub it in with his fingers so that the edges blend soft against his skin. He shows Patton how to wet the beauty blender, how to squirt the foundation onto the back of his hand and dab it onto his face. He shows Patton how to gather the setting powder onto his brush and sweep it onto his face, how to smile wide and lightly dust blush on the apples of his cheeks, how to saturate the applicator tip with lip gloss and sweep it across his lower lip before carefully tracing his Cupid’s bow. 

“Wow,” Virgil breathes, closing the lip gloss tube and admiring his work. “Pat, you - you look - you look _incredible_. I mean, I always think you look incredible, but this, I - I -”

“Can you see my bruise?” Patton asks worriedly.

“No, I can’t, but that might just be because I’m blinded by your beauty,” Virgil teases. 

“Virgil!” Patton laughs, swatting at his hands and pushing past him to peer into the mirror. He stares at himself for almost a minute before whirling around and showering Virgil in kisses. 

(By the time Virgil looks at himself in the mirror, almost thirty minutes later, his face is covered in shiny pale pink kiss-prints. He can’t bring himself to be upset at all; he’ll wear the marks of Patton’s love proudly any day of the week.)

**Author's Note:**

> come scream at me on tumblr! // [@teacupfulofstarshine](https://teacupfulofstarshine.tumblr.com)


End file.
